


Two Minute Warning

by midnight12181



Category: Glee
Genre: Football, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 20:04:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1136808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnight12181/pseuds/midnight12181
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the way Hunter had been talking about the upcoming professional football season, no one was surprised to find him in the senior lounge, completely out of uniform and surrounded by junk food and the other rabid football fans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Minute Warning

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr - sprinkwrites.tumblr.com
> 
> Title: Two Minute Warning  
> Pairing: Huntbastian, blink and you miss it Niff  
> Rating: PG  
> Warnings: Language, Football  
> Notes: I realized football season started tonight. Baltimore at Denver. And then this happened.

With the way Hunter had been talking about the upcoming professional football season, no one was surprised to find him in the senior lounge, completely out of uniform and surrounded by junk food and the other rabid football fans. The television was on, pregame playing as Sebastian finally joined his boyfriend on the couch. Hunter was dressed like the rest of the boys, cut-off jean shorts and a short-sleeved jersey, the number 7 under the name ‘Elway’ displayed proudly across his back, and per usual, Sebastian stuck out like a sore thumb with his skinny jeans and classy polo shirt. When Hunter had first invited the other boy to join him and a few of the guys, he had scoffed, proclaiming that American ‘Hand Egg’ was no football. He thought he would have other plans for a Thursday night, but both Nick and Jeff were down there – Nick the fan, Jeff the ever supportive boyfriend – and everyone else was studying. When Hunter had asked again before heading down to the lounge, Sebastian agreed, if for nothing more than  _something_  to do. Knowing almost nothing about  _football americain_ , he found himself lost before the game even started.

He tried. He really did. Jeff took pity on him early on and started explaining why sometimes the guy was able to catch the ball and sometimes he couldn’t touch it, why the quarterback occasionally threw the ball at no one and why kicking the ball away when you have another try to finish going ten yards was actually giving you a more strategic position. He even tried explaining why you couldn’t just grab someone by the jersey sometimes but not others, sparking an intense debate between Hunter and Nick as to what rules were ‘ruining the game.’ Still, it wasn’t nearly as exciting as Hunter had made it sound. There seemed to be a whole lot of nothing going on while large, sweaty men pushing up against other large sweaty men. If you asked him, there was both far too much clothing and far too little pretty faces for this to be interesting to him at all.

When Baltimore scored first, Hunter yelled, “Oh come on!” and startled a bored Sebastian.

“What? Didn’t your team score?” Sebastian asked.

Hunter just looked at him incredulously, then gestured at his bright orange jersey. “Denver, Bas. We’re cheering for Denver.”

“No we’re not,” Trent said, gesturing at his own white and purple jersey.

“Fuck you, Sensitive,” Hunter laughed, flipping off the other boy good-naturedly.

“I don’t think Sebastian would like that,” Trent replied, offering a small smile in return.

“Twenty bucks says the Broncos win,” Hunter returned, rubbing chip crumbs from his fingers onto his shorts before he offered the hand to Trent to shake.

“Deal.”

Sebastian was so bored that he already had his phone out after only seven minutes of actual gametime had passed. He checked Twitter, unsurprised to find most of the people he followed were also watching the game. Most of their comments were lost on him, and funny or not, even that was quickly becoming boring.

“Sack!” Hunter cheered as Joe Flacco hit the grass on the television.

“I got a sack for you,” Sebastian teased, rolling his eyes. If anything, the inadvertently sexual commentary and calls were somewhat amusing, even if he had no idea what the hell half of what the announcers were saying.

The game continued with cheers and jibes coming from either side, and at half time, Hunter seemed a little anxious as he hopped up off the couch to make a quick run to the bathroom. Sebastian took the other boy’s seat on the couch, absently watching the commercials and talking to Jeff about the classes they shared that semester. Truthfully, he was considering heading up to his and Hunter’s room to just watch a movie, but he had told Hunter he would watch the game with him, and his boyfriend  _had_  watched the World Cup with him last year, even though he didn’t understand soccer in the least. It was only fair, right?

When he returned, Hunter settled himself on the floor, grabbing and handful of chips from the nearest bag and leaning himself back against Sebastian’s legs. He leaned his head back, smiling up at the taller boy and mouthing a ‘thank you’ that made Sebastian smile. He shifted his position, letting his legs bracket Hunter as he continued to talk quietly with Jeff about anything that wasn’t football.

“Fuck yeah, Welker,” Hunter cheered as the receiver continued to catch pass after pass. “Win me this game and I will personally suck your dick.”

Sebastian laughed, making a face. “Are you serious? I don’t even know if I should be offended or not. Tell me he’s at least somewhat hot under that helmet.”

Hunter shrugged, already too engrossed in the game again to give a real answer. Sebastian looked the man up on his phone, looking at a few pictures before deciding that he wasn’t bad on the eyes, the search giving him something to look at that wasn’t the game on the television. He found himself looking at pictures of all the players on both teams, making a mental ‘hot or not’ list to pass the time.

Finally, finally the announcer called for the two minute warning to end the game, and Sebastian found himself sitting up a little straighter. Only two more minutes and they could go back to their room and do something far more entertaining than watch two teams of men chasing after an oddly shaped ball. Hunter had gone from being on the proverbial edge of his seat to relaxing comfortably, glancing over at Trent occasionally and chuckling as the other boy’s team continued to make errors. However, after ten minutes, the game was still going.

“I thought it was a two minute warning,” Sebastian finally complained.

“Yeah,” Hunter answered, rolling his eyes as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“It’s been ten.”

“And?”

“It’s a fucking two minute warning. Two minutes left to play. And it takes more than ten to play it? This is the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Then be happy this game isn’t that important. If it was, they’d be calling time outs to try and set up plays and given themselves extra time. Sometimes the last two minutes takes longer than 20 to play out.”

“Then call it a 20 minute warning and be done with it. Fucking Americans and their stupid fucking game. Why is it called football if it’s almost never kicked, anyway?”

Hunter just shook his head, stretching out his legs as the clock continued to tick down. When the clock hit the 30 second mark and the teams started walking together for the post-game meeting, he stood. Hunter held his hand out to help Sebastian off the couch, glancing over at Trent. “You owe me $20, Sunshine,” he said cheekily, pleased that his home team – even though he was in Ohio, he’d grown up watching the Broncos – won their opening game. “And you,” he said, turning to press a kiss to the corner of Sebastian’s mouth. “Let’s go celebrate.”

Sebastian chuckled, offering a small wave to the other boys as they reached the edge of the room. “Now there’s something about football I can get behind,” he teased, quirking his eyebrows suggestively. As they turned the corner, he made sure his words carried to the boys still in the lounge. “But you call me Wes and we’re going to have problems.”


End file.
